The Selection
by marysbookkingdom
Summary: Prince Jace Herondale's time has come. He is to host a selection of 35 lucky girls for a chance to win his heart. Clarissa Adele Fairchild only entered because her family needed the money. She entered and was chosen to compete. She will stay as long as she can, but she knows she will not win. 35 Girls. 1 Boy. 1 Crown.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first attempt at a fanfic so don't be too harsh on me! Please review and tell me how you think this is going and if you want to see more. I wrote this because I loved the concept of The Selection series by Kiera Cass but (if I'm being honest) I absolutely hated America Singer as a character, so I decided to rewrite it with my favorite characters in the world!**

 **I do not own the mortal instruments characters or the world I have placed them in. Those belong to Cassandra Clare and Kiera Cass**

I've never agreed with The Selection. I've made that clear for the past couple of years. While all the girls in my grade where excited to be born at such a marvelous time, I couldn't care less. I'm only a Five, too close to the bottom for Prince Jace to ever consider me an equal. Prince Jace is the most desirable man in Idris. Every girl wanted him, and every boy wanted to be him.

"Clary? Honey? come look at this portrait," My mother calls to me from the small art studio across the hallway. Her voice, smooth as honey, shakes me out of my thoughts. I walk the short distance across the hall and see my mother. Her brilliant hair, so similar and yet so different to mine, pulled back with an old paintbrush. Just as it has been all my life. She takes a few graceful steps to the side to reveal to me a stunning portrait of a war general. His black suit was decorated in sparkling medallions.

"It's amazing mom," I say and take a seat at my own easel. I had been commissioned to paint the house of a wealthy socialite some weeks ago, and I was putting the finishing touches on it today. As Fives my mother and I chose to be artists. My mothers side of our family has always been Fives.

Mom breaks my concentration once again as she speaks, "We got the forms in the mail today." I know immediately what forms she's referring to.  
"You know how I feel about The Selection," I reply in barely over a whisper, "I would never get picked anyway." And it's true. They never pick anyone who isn't front page perfect.

"It wouldn't hurt to fill out the application," mom states, "and if fate wants you in the palace, then that is exactly where you will be." She places the forms in my hand, careful to avoid the paintbrush I was holding.

I place the forms on the table and start to fill them out.

 _Full name: Clarissa Adele Fairchild_

 _Age:18_

 _Height:5'2"_

The rest of the form is a blur to fill out. Facts about me that anyone would know just by looking close enough. I change into a forest green dress and apply a little makeup. We have to go down to the State Province Office and submit my forms, along with get my picture taken to send in as well. We begin walking down the sidewalk toward the office, me falling into stride beside my mother.

When we reached the office there was a very long line of girls. One girl was wearing so much makeup she rivaled that of a clown. She must have been a Two. Another girl, a Six, looked like she had just come in from a hard day of work. My mother and I where standing in line for slightly over an hour, making small talk with each other. Final I got into the small office, and readjusted my hair a little before sitting down. I smiled as though I was the happiest girl on the face of the earth, and for a split second I believed that perhaps I could fall in love with a prince.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, guys! guess who just crushed out another chapter because y'all were giving such positive feedback? That's right, it's me! Thank you guys so much for reviewing it honestly means the world to me. The chapters are going to be longer from here on out.**

 **I do not own the characters or the world I have placed them in, those belong To Cassandra Clare and Kiera Cass.**

Prince Jace was the most attractive man in the country. Everyone knew it. But on this night, nearly 2 weeks after I had submitted my form, he had never looked more radiant. His smile played on his lips as though he was the calmest, self-assured person in the world. The only giveaway that he had any nerves what-so-ever was the way he ran his hand through his hair as he was talking to King Stephen. he had slight energetic ticks about him like this constant need to stay in motion.

My mother and I sat on the couch in front of our TV, watching in anticipation for the announcement of the Selected. I didn't realize how nervous I would be until a man walks on stage to start the evening with an interview of the prince. The man's name is Magnus Bane. He has been the personality of our celebrations for as long as anyone can remember. Magnus is known for his exceedingly eccentric wardrobe. tonight he sports a shimmering blue suit that hugs his arms and torso. His jet black hair is spiked and the tips are a startling electric blue. Jace is the exact opposite of Magnus. Jace's golden hair and eyes to match are are a beacon of daylight. Even his white suit gives him an angelic property no other could possess.

"So Your Highness, are you excited for your Selection to begin?" Magnus begins. The prince pauses for a moment as if considering the question in great detail.

"This is the second most important event in my life," Jace draws out every syllable of each word, "How could I not be excited to meet the girl I am going to marry?" Jace smiles knowingly at the camera. His eyes draw you in, like a bee to a flower. Jace and Magnus banter back and forth about different topics but it always comes back to The Selection eventually.

"Who would your ideal bride be?" Magnus asks, "Describe her for us." This question is asked every time the Selection takes place.

"In the end, I don't care what she looks like," Jace states openly, his eyes softening with his words, " As long as she loves me, and not my crown I couldn't be happier."

And with those words the announcements begin. The camera stays focused on Jace's face as he looks at the screen where the ladies pictures will be appearing.

"Aline Penhallow, 2"

A tall woman appeared on the screen, Her black hair cascading in a waterfall over one shoulder. She is absolutely stunning. Jace smiles at her picture. He can see how gorgeous she is.

"Cristina Rosales, 5"

Cristina was from one of the lower Providences, and you could tell by her skin. it was darker than that of someone from the north. Jace's eyes never seem to lose his childlike wonder and happiness as a new face appears on the screen.

"Clarissa Fairchild, 5"

I immediately do a double take, but there I am. My bright red hair and my emerald green eyes. I turn to mom and I can't contain the excitement. I'm going to the palace! Jace's smile shifts slightly at my picture, but he immediately changes back. So quickly was this new smile gone that I could barely have seen it.

"So Clare-bear," I hear a familiar voice behind me, "You planning on leaving me for some rich guy?" The laughter in Simon's voice is contagious. I laugh with him as he flops onto the couch beside me and slings his feet across my lap. This is how Simon is. he makes himself comfortable in my house because he knows that it might as well be him too. He has been my best, and only, friend my entire life. He's the brother I always wish I had.

"Only for a little while," I reply with a smile. Simon has an incapability to ever stop me from smiling.

"Yeah, I suppose that is true," Simon says, a mischievous glint in his eye, "I don't think even I could deal with being married to you."

"Simon," I gasp in mock disbelief, even throwing my hand over my heart for good measure, "Weren't you the one who proposed to me when we were eight?"

"Minor details," Simon says with all the seriousness a boy of his humor could muster.

"Oh, you two!" My mother laughs, " if I didn't know any better I would say you were siblings!"

" You know you love our witty banter Jocelyn," Simon states, " But alas, I must be gone. Mother sent to town for some more cloth. If I'm gone too much longer she might have my head." Mother and I hug Simon goodbye and he exits hastily, mumbling about the prospect of being able to see his own body once his mother chops off his head.

The next week was a flurry of movement from one important person to the next. First came an utterly dreadful woman who was to make sure that I hadn't lied on my forms. Later was a man to get my measurements for the wardrobe I would receive when I entered the palace, and the Selected uniform I would be given for the parade and plane ride. Then a soldier came to inform the local soldiers of the protocol they must uphold to ensure my protection. Only one day of this hustle and bustle had my head spinning, and there were still six more days!

The day before I was to leave a tall woman with a briefcase swept into the kitchen where my mother and I had taken to sitting in our sparse moments of quiet. She took a set across the table from my mother and me and began to lay out papers in front of her. She had me sign them as she explained the rules and regulations to me. It was deadly boring, but it had to be done.

The next day it was time to leave my home. These four walls of my bedroom would be left behind. A forgotten memory of a life I might never see again. I dress in the uniform of the Selected: black pants, a white shirt, and my province flower, a violet, placed in my hair. I slip my feet into black flats and make my way to the kitchen. My mother is sitting there already.

If it weren't for the drab surroundings and clothes, someone could have mistaken her for a queen. She is everything I wish I was. She is confident and graceful. When she walks it's like she glides across the floor. Like she never has to touch the ground. My father told me once that this was the exact reason why he fell in love with her. That even though she was a five, she was as regal as the queen. My father died when I ten. A terrible disease had taken him from me, and I can never get him back.

"I get that you're scared Clary," my mother says with a quiet tone, "I would be too, but you can talk to me."

"What if I lose?" I ask her in barely over a whisper, "I know I said it wouldn't happen, but what if by a whim I fall in love? And then he chooses someone else?"

"But Clary," My mother says, with all the bravado her small voice could muster, "What if you win? The prince will give you his heart, and then love you enough to give you the crown with it. He will love you because you started as a Five and because that didn't matter. Because you will always be amazing and he will see that."

My mother has tears in her eyes as she speaks to me. She believes in me. She believes that I will find the love of my life in that castle. But I know that if I don't, I will always have a place with her too. And after The Selection is over I will be happy, whether that is with Prince Jace or some other boy who may be a lifetime away right now.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride to the center square in the province was quick. there were so many people there to cheer me on. Once on the platform in the square the mayor of our province gave a few quick words on my behalf, "Clarissa is a great example of what we all should strive to be. She is smart, kind and just. Idris would be the luckiest country in the world to have her as our queen. we wish you luck Clarissa Fairchild. May you win the prince's heart, and the heart of the country." This speech is ended with a crash of applause. My province is doing their best to give me comfort and hope. I am told by my aide that I will have a few moments to say goodbye to any family and friends that I wish too. At those words, I walk off the stage and right into the arms of my mother.

"Goodbye sweetheart," My mother whispers into my ear, "May you find everything you wish for in the palace." She pulls away from me and I can see tears in her eyes as I turn to face Simon. He immediately wraps his lanky arms around my waist and pulls me close. The move is urgent and needed like he plans on never seeing me again.

"I hope you eat a ton of really great food at the palace," Simon says, his hot breath grazing my neck, "You will always be a princess in my eyes whether you win or lose." With those last words, I am pulled away by my aide. If I don't leave now I will be late she says without a hint of emotion in her voice. I turn and wave to my family as I am being dragged toward a slick, black car. I am placed into the back and almost immediately we start driving away from my home. Now the only bit of my of my old life left is what I could shove in my backpack: a change of clothes, my sketchbook and some Prismacolor pencils that probably cost my mom a whole months wages.

I arrived at the airport to see two girls sitting on a couch talking. I hadn't really taken the time to learn any of their names or faces, but I knew they were selected because of their uniforms. The girl facing me sees me and shoots straight up and rushes over to me. Her Her mocha skin glistens in the factory lights hanging above us as she speaks, "Hi, I'm Maia Roberts. You must be Clarissa. Did you know that you are the only Selected with red hair? I think that gives you an edge personally."

"I didn't know that," I say as we begin to make our way back to the other girl, "How would that give me an edge?"

"It makes you stand out," the blonde girl sitting on the couch says to me, "I'm Emma, by the way. And you are Clarissa, yeah?"

"Clary," I state politely as I sit down next to Maia, "Call me Clary." And with those final peaceful words a girl blew into the room. He high heel shoes crashed like thunder as she neared. She looks like a girl on the cover of a magazine, and in all honesty, she probably was. Her bleach blonde hair and high cheekbones gave everyone something to envy.

"That's Camille Belcourt. She's been on every magazine known to man." Maia whispers next to me, almost in awe. So I was right. She is definitely a Two. Camille pulls off her glasses to reveal eyes like the forest. She says nothing to us as she walks to the other end of the couch and sits down.

"Hi, I'm Maia. The blonde is Emma and The red head is Clary." Maia tentatively says in Camille's direction. Camille simply nods and continues reading a magazine she grabbed off the display a few moments ago. Maia doesn't make any more attempts at conversation with her.

"Alright, ladies," A broad-shouldered man rumbles to us all, "It is time to get you on your plane to the palace. Everyone follow me."

The rest of the airport was void of people. I guess they had cleared it out for us. Once on the airplane, I began sketching. First, it was the airport area that I had met Maia and Emma. Then Maia herself. In the drawing she was sitting on the airplane, her nose poised over a book. Her profile was elegant and calm. A look befitting a queen.

"You're an amazing artist," Emma whispers from behind me. I am currently drawing my room at home, clutter and all.

"Thank you, Emma," I whisper back and she leans back in her seat. She stares out the window in deep concentration until we land.

Now that we have landed we walk through the terminal to see thousands of people ready to greet us. Camille's name is written on quite a few of banners, but a surprising amount of them also bore my name. I take pictures and talk to some of the people cheering until I am ushered away to yet another car. This short car ride passes more mass crowds of people cheering and holding banners with contestants names on them.

The castle is the biggest building I have ever seen. Even the town hall in my province is dwarfed by the castle. The wall surrounding the castle has outposts on top at each corner. Periodically you can catch a glimpse at a guard in the window. The actual castle is polished and gleaming white. It has withstood the tests of time well. It still looks exactly as it did when it was built hundreds of years ago. Looking at the grandeur of the place you would never think that an entire country was pulled to its knees in order for it to have been built.

As soon as the car pulled to a stop the door was yanked open, ad my hands were grabbed by two women. Both of them had to look down at me. They hauled me through the front door of the palace and flooded me with locations I couldn't possibly remember. The Great Room was to my left, they told to be, and the dining room was to the right. Out the glass doors was a garden that I was restricted from unless accompanied by the prince.

Another hectic scene greeted me when I arrived at a new room. There were rows of mirrors with girls in front of them, people doing their hair and makeup. A few girls were standing around a clothes rack in the back corner. A man was assessing one girl and then turned to his assistant, yelling about how that particular shade of pink was terrible looking on the girl.

"Hi, my name is Maryse," A tall woman says. She pushes a stray black strand out of her face as she speaks, "I spoke to all of you on the phone." I guess this was a good enough greeting because she immediately began having our 'before' pictures taken. This is a makeover. The entire country as to see how the palace can take a five and turn her into a three. After my picture is taken I am placed in a chair with a gorgeous girl standing next to it.

"I'm Isabelle Lightwood," The girl states with a dazzling smile. Her straight black hair frames her angled face perfectly. I am immediately swept up in the excitement of the room. I am not really paying attention to what Isabelle is doing as I continue to look around the room, occasionally turning my head or closing my eyes per Isabelle's request. I can see Camille at the other end of the room, an entourage of people swarming around her. From what I can tell she is being rude and hateful to people who are just trying to help. Isabelle's gaze follows mine and we turn to look at each other.

"God, she is awful," Isabelle and I say at the same time. We laugh at or weird sprout of synchronization.

"You're not like the rest of them," Isabelle muses as she curls my already curly hair. Somehow she had managed to tame my unruly curls into submission.

"Is that a good thing?" I ask. I obviously don't want to be like Camille, but what if being different from everyone else isn't a good thing?

"Amazing actually," Isabelle states openly, "You seem more down to earth." With those words, Isabelle grabs my hand and pulls me toward the rack of dresses. She grabs the black bag with my name on it and hands it to me, pushing me behind the screen to change. Inside the bag was a beautiful cobalt blue dress. The lace of the dress went down to just above my knees. I had never worn anything lace before. I walk out from behind the screen and Isabelle smiles brightly.

"I did amazing with you," Isabelle states, giggling as she takes a bow for me, "Let's go get your interview was done with and then I will lead you to your room."I joined a line of girls, waiting patiently to get interviewed. When it was finally my turn The woman didn't even bother introducing herself. Se simply sat me down and started firing questions at me.

"You are Clarissa Fairchild?" The woman asks me and I nod.

"How has your first day at the palace been?" the woman asks politely, her voice friendly and light. Her eyes show that she is actually very bored with the situation.

"It has been fabulous," I say, my voice showing no sign that I wish I could be back home, "I've already made some friends."

"Who did your makeup? They did a fantastic job." Off to the side, I see Isabelle beaming at the compliment.

"Isabelle Lightwood. She is an amazing makeup artist."

"Okay, I think that is enough. Good luck Clarissa," The woman turns and beckons the next girl forward as Isabelle grabs my hand and leads me to the second floor. My room is tucked into a corner, relatively far from the hustle and bustle of most of the girls. My room is huge, and even that statement might be putting it lightly. This room is quadruple what my room is at home. A giant bed sits in the middle of the room. An easel with the cupboard beside it full of exquisite paints and canvas sit in the far back corner. I walk out two sliding glass doors to a balcony overlooking the gardens.

"This place is amazing," I state in awe. Isabelle has placed herself at the center of my bed, flipping through my somewhat empty sketch book. I hadn't realized how much I wanted her to be my friend until that moment. All these other girls in the competition could have ulterior motives, ready to stab me in the back the second the prince starts to make decisions. Isabelle could be someone who I could confide in.

"Let's be friends," I say to Isabelle, and her head pops up at the question.

"I thought you would never ask," Isabelle said, and just like that, I had a friend in a place I never thought I could.


	4. Update!

This isn't actually an update and for that I am terribly sorry. This is the busiest time of the year for me as it is volleyball season! This is simply to inform those of you that are confused about Clary being a Five that i updated the first chapter so that it explains in quick detail how that works. It is in the last chapter if you need to see that. For everyone else please be patient with me. I will start working on a new chapter for you as soon as I upload this update/informational blurb thingy.

Sorry guys!

~Mary


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